


sorry we're already closed

by sassy_ninja



Series: The Android and the Mechanic [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Android Oikawa Tooru, Angst, Established Relationship, Grief/Mourning, Healing, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Long-Distance Relationship, Long-Term Relationship(s), M/M, Mechanic Iwaizumi Hajime, Mechanic Kyoutani Kentarou, Mentions of Hanamaki Takahiro, Minor Character Death, Minor Hanamaki Takahiro/Matsukawa Issei, Ramen, Steampunk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-08
Updated: 2019-04-08
Packaged: 2020-01-06 23:25:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18398483
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sassy_ninja/pseuds/sassy_ninja
Summary: Tooru has always been running for as long as he remembers, his heart is too filled with big dreams to be able to stay still. So he pushes ahead, clearing the path for everyone behind him to follow. Sometimes they do, other times they still fall behind. He runs and he runs until he can't anymore, until there's a wall that stands too tall to topple. Then he does the only thing he has left, he goes home.(or; Tooru gets put on a List, and he takes the train back to Iwaizumi's arms)[sequel to 'so can you fix me, doc?' but can be read as a stand alone]





	sorry we're already closed

Tooru knows when he walks into the room that something is wrong. Ushijima is sitting too straight, eyes even blanker than normal; Kageyama is gripping the table so tight his hands are white with the strain of it. He knows that look, this feeling.

 

“How long do I have?” he asks, relishes just a little at Kageyama’s wide-eyed stare, shocked at just how perceptive Tooru really can be. Ushijima just blinks, unperturbed.

 

“Maybe two months if you don’t try to leave Central, a few days if you do,” he doesn’t mince his words, doesn’t pretend to comfort Tooru, tell him it’s going to be ok. It won’t be, that much is very clear. They’ve both been in this game for far too long to pretend it will.

 

“We won’t give up on you, Oikawa-san,” Kageyama stands, slamming his fists on the table with burning eyes, “I don’t care what Ushijima-san says, I’m not going to let–”

 

“Tobio-chan,” he interrupts, “there’s no point. No one who’s name gets on the List gets off it alive. I appreciate your anger, but there’s no point. Ushiwaka,” his lips curl around the old nickname and for the first (last) time, Ushijima smiles and nods, “take care of my little kohai, alright. Keep him on his toes.”

 

“Oikawa-san where are you–”

 

“I’m going to go home,” Tooru smiles and waves goodbye with a waggle of his fingers, as if it’s just a normal day at the office, as if he’s going to walk through the door the next day. He doesn’t turn around to see Ushijima’s face crack, to hear Kageyama fall to the ground, shaking. All that’s in his head is Iwaizumi, his touch, his scent, his warmth. All he can think about is going home for the last time.

 

 

The station to Outer is busy as usual, Tooru sidesteps the line, flashing his identity card at any harassed looking employee who tries to stop him. When he finally gets to the ticket gate a tired woman scans his card, the scarlet mark showing up beside his smiling photo and his name. She shakes her head in a wordless pre-mourning as she hands the card back to Tooru.

 

He wonders how many Listed people that woman sees every day, trying desperately to get back to family, friends, escape Central for one last time.

 

Tooru stands on the train wedged between a tall man with terrible bedhead and a tiny guy with the roots growing out of his dyed blond hair. They all sway together, Tooru peering over tiny guy’s shoulder at the game he’s playing. He guides the little mascot across the screen, pressing button to swing his sword and kill monsters, until one time he gets a little too close and a little pixelated rhino stabs him with an axe.

 

GAME OVER, the screen flashes in black and red. The guy just sighs and restarts, the hero reappearing at the start of the level. Trying all over again.

 

“Kenma come on, our stop,” the tall man drawls, half leaning over Tooru to speak. Kenma just grunts, wriggling his way around Tooru with a small ‘excuse me’ as the train slows to a stop. It’s the first station outside Central, houses still pretty dust free, only downside is the shadow of the border wall drowns the entire town in a constant murky half-dusk.

 

By the time they get to Tooru’s station, the train is practically empty. A few people have gotten on from within the Outer, but not many people wanted to go this far out, this close to the city limits. When the train doors open red dust blows inside, no matter how many barriers they put in place to try and stop it, the dust ends up settled in every pore and crevice. Home, getting closer.

 

 

“Iwa-chan,” he sing-songs, stepping into the shop during the day for the first time in years. It’s much nicer seeing everything bathed in sunlight, rather than the hazy sunset or the harsh artificial lighting of the night. He realises with a small jolt that he hasn’t seen Iwaizumi in the daylight for more than ten years.

 

“Oikawa, what’re you – you’re here?” Iwaizumi’s mouth is open with shock, eyes darting to the clock where the time reads ‘1:46pm’, “it’s not – I don’t.”

 

“Don’t neglect your clients, Iwa-chan,” he pouts at the confused looking droid sitting on the client’s stool with her foot disassembled on the table in-front of her, “I’m not going anywhere, we can talk after.”

 

He sits, perched on one of Iwaizumi’s work tables, careful to avoid any of the parts he has scattered around. His apprentice, Kyoutani, glares at Tooru until Iwaizumi points something out to him and he has to rip his eyes away and back down at what Iwaizumi is doing. It feels so right, just sitting here listening to Iwaizumi murmur something to Kyoutani, make small talk with his client, or just the busy thrum of the street outside.

 

Twice, people stick their heads into the shop to give Iwaizumi things, gifts. A red-head from ‘Karasuno’ leaves a box of fresh pastries and a tall awkward looking man with no eyebrows gives him a small potted plant with a smattering of white flowers. Tooru realises that in the years he hasn’t been here the world here has grown different to what he remembered, the trees bloom at different seasons than he thought they did, the old paths have become overgrown and new ones made.

 

Iwaizumi works through a brief rush, droids coming in with different aches and pains. Many are regulars, Iwaizumi knows what’s wrong before they even say anything, asking them about old repairs and new parts and different upgrades they might want to try next time. Tooru watches and he aches, wondering if all these years apart where really worth it, if he’s given all this away for nothing.

 

When Iwaizumi finally sends the last droid out with a wave, he calls to Kyoutani, “we’re closing early today, and you don’t need to come in tomorrow. You haven’t had a day off in ages.”

 

Kyoutani looks like he’s moments away from saying ‘but, Iwaizumi-san, neither have you’, but he gets shut up with a quick slap on the shoulder and a stern look. “Thank you, Iwaizumi-san. Have a nice night.” He nods quickly at Tooru as well, suspicion still heavy in his eyes as he slides out into the street.

 

Iwaizumi slides the shutters down, leaving Tooru in half darkness, light still leaking in from the gaps between the slats.

 

“So, are you gonna tell me what’s going on, Oikawa?” he asks, voice low and curious as Tooru walks away from him towards the door that leads to his flat above the shop.

 

“Don’t you want to eat first, Iwa-chan? I haven’t seen you take a break since I got here,” his voice is light and teasing, laughing when Iwaizumi catches up to him on the stairs and presses his against the wall for a quick kiss.

 

“It’s not something to do with your knee,” he murmurs when they get into the apartment, eyes catching on everything about him, “you would’ve said something before. Is something else hurting? Your ankle?”

 

“Nothing’s wrong, Iwa-chan,” he says, voice straining a little, “not like that. Maybe I just missed you.”

 

“You miss me all the time. You said yourself, ‘every day, every minute, every second’, right?”

 

Tooru lets out a little breath, something that shows that Iwaizumi still knows him far too well. He does, even after ten years of night-time visits and lonely mornings. Tooru holds his hands in his own, they’re worn and calloused and warm – oh, always so warm.

 

“Yeah you’re right, but I’ll miss you more,” his voice is too wet to be normal, his hands don’t tremble because he’s a robot, an android, his hands don’t shake unless there’s something wrong with his system. Even now, even when he feels like his heart is being ripped out, he still holds Iwaizumi’s wonderfully human hands completely motionless.

 

“Oikawa – Tooru, what’s wrong? What’s going on?” Iwaizumi’s face is close, Tooru can smell his sweat, the scent of motor oil, dust, the scent that’s just uniquely himself. He’s human, so beautiful, so perfect, he can’t help but lean in, kiss him again and again and again, until Iwaizumi pulls away, worry high in his voice when he asks again, “What’s wrong, Tooru?”

 

“I’m – I’ve been – I’m going to – Hajime I’m on a List,” he finally blurts out. He doesn’t want to see his face, he doesn’t want to see his eyes. The worry, the pain. It’s too much. Tooru is just selfish like that, all he wants is for Iwaizumi, for Hajime (his Hajime) to touch him, to hold him. “I’m sorry – I lied – the entire time I’ve worked in Central I worked with Ushiwaka, we’ve been trying to bring down the wall, raise standards for people in Outer. Hajime I’m sorry I couldn’t–”

 

“I know,” Tooru stops short, finally flicks his eyes up to meet Hajime’s. They’re tired, weary, sad (Tooru caused that, he caused all of this), “I’ve always known – Tooru you’re such a bad liar,” he lets go of one of Tooru’s hands to scrub at his own face, sighs when his hand gets pulled away and replaced with something softer. Tooru kisses the tears away, apologies unspoken. “I know you tried to protect me – I’ve always known. You’ve made a real difference, Tooru. They’ve improved the water systems, housing. It’s easier to get cards to travel into Central, to get work there. They even set up a school–”

 

“Hajime–”

 

“Let me finish,” he says softly, tilting Tooru’s head for a kiss and then another, “Tooru I always understood why you weren’t here, I knew it was important, something bigger than just us. You don’t need to apologise.”

 

Tooru cries, he lets himself be held until the bright cheerful Oikawa Tooru falls out and leaves him behind. Here he lets his fears bubble up, lets his wants, his hopes. “Hajime, run away with me?”

 

“Tooru,” Hajime pushes him away for a second, pulls his head up to look at him in the eyes, “we can’t. Outside the city limits – there’s nothing there, Tooru. Just desert… dust. And I can’t – I can’t leave here. My shop, there’s so many people relying on me.”

 

“Why can’t you just be selfish for once?” he flinches away, angry tears flowing down his cheeks, “you’re always so goddamn fucking selfless, Iwaizumi Hajime. Even when I left, even when I came back, you never asked me to stay more than a night. You always made that decision for me. You always chose what was best for me, you always hurt yourself,” his breaths are coming big and gulping, face contorted with anger, “why can’t you just think about yourself? For one goddamn time? What would make _you_ happy. Not anyone else. Not me, not your customers, not anyone in the goddamn world. I’ll do anything you want. If _you_ want to stay, I’ll stay with you. If _you_ want to leave I’ll do that too. Just stop,” he closes his eyes, trembling, “just stop thinking about everyone else – please.”

 

“Tooru,” he takes a step back. What does he want? He wants afternoons like this, he wants Tooru humming in the back of the shop, teasing Kyoutani, kissing in the stairwell. He wants to love Tooru like a normal lover, ignore the fact he’s a droid, or that he’s an enemy of the government. He presses him close again, hides his face in Tooru’s neck.

 

They’ll never have that, what he wants will never be possible. Hajime gave that all away the first time he watched Tooru take the train to Central, worker’s permit held tightly in one hand as he slips away from Hajime’s orbit. His choice was made all those years ago.

 

“Tooru–”

 

“No matter what,” Tooru says, fierce again, “no matter what happens I’ll always stay by your side. From now until I die – no matter what, I won’t regret a thing.”

 

* * *

 

The dust is still thick on the shutters of the shop from the dust storm last night, showering down on Kentarou when he opens up the shop. It stains his hands, coats the top of his mouth when he breathes. He tries to wipe it off on his apron, but all it does is smear everything with orange. He groans, getting a mop to wipe the sand off the old sign and getting more on himself in the process.

 

‘Iwaizumi’s Mechanics Shop’

 

He’d never bothered to change the name, well the shop is still technically Iwaizumi’s even if he isn’t here anymore. It wouldn’t feel right to change the sign either, not with the story it holds.

 

The street market slowly staggers back to life, merchants picking up fallen carts, hacking up their lungs as the dust gets into their mouths and doesn’t come back out again. Across the road Yahaba is helping Matsukawa wipe down the countertop and stools. He meets Kentarou’s eyes and winks, Kentarou can’t help but blush, pulling up the collar of his shirt until he’s sure that any marks are covered.

 

‘It’s just so pretty’ Yahaba would always say, ‘you’re so human, Kentarou.’

 

He always bites back the ‘what else would I be?’, because there’s always that one thing droids are obsessed with. The idea of being human. The marks, the scars, the callouses that made them so. It’s something Oikawa was always talking about, ‘Iwa-chan’s hands’, ‘Iwa-chan’s arms’, blah blah blah. Even years afterwards, even though he only stayed for a few days, the shop still feels too quiet without him.

 

Kentarou sighs, sitting down at his workstation with a damp cloth and going through every piece of equipment to make sure every sand grain is wiped off. Everything clean and dry and sharp. He thinks he understands Iwaizumi a little better now – why he was so drawn to Oikawa – the fire in his eyes, the hunger for something bigger always rumbling in his belly.

 

‘Don’t you ever dream of something better than this, Mad Dog-chan?’ he’d asked, it was one of their first and last proper conversations. One’s that weren’t just sniping and growling at each other.

 

‘Sometimes. I’m too small to make a big change, all I can do is this,’ he gestures at the shop. It’s a quiet afternoon, Iwaizumi is chatting to a spice trader about the newest trade route to a sky city, something about a prediction for good trading weather. ‘I can help one person at a time, I can make the world a better place for them. No need to dream of something better than that.’

 

‘You’re a lot like Iwa-chan,’ Oikawa had answered, his eyes distant. The conversation felt unfinished, but he was already moving on, walking away. Kentarou remembers shaking his head, confused.

 

The storm that night had torn the roof clean off the house, left nothing but the shattered corpse of the shop. Nothing left, no bodies, no evidence, nothing to mourn over. Kentarou hates the dust, hates the way he picked his way through the gutted house screaming Iwaizumi’s name, screaming Oikawa’s. It got in his eyes, his nose, his mouth, his hair. All he could see, all he could taste was that fucking dust.

 

The sign is still intact, found by someone miles away who recognises the name and it gets passed back through a network of friends and clients and acquaintances until it returns back home. Kentarou cries over it, screams over it when he finally gets it back, days later. It finally feels like there’s something to mourn over, instead of a body, Kentarou still at least has his name.

 

He wasn’t ready, he didn’t want this. Not a ruined, empty shop for him to rebuild, not an almost finished apprenticeship that would never be completed. He remembers hearing Matsukawa screaming for someone to get help, for someone to help Takahiro, for someone to save them all. No one comes, no one helps them.

 

Maybe in that moment, he dreams of a better world, of somewhere he can escape to.

 

Now, he shakes his head. No one came to help them, but they came to help themselves. Every funeral he attended, every shop he helped to rebuild, every droid he fixed for free – no, no one ever came to save them, but they’re still here, aren’t they?

 

This dust storm was nothing like that, just a particularly bad one during the season, but still he heads over to the ramen stall to make sure Matsukawa is feeling alright. Even ten years on, grief really never stops. Sometimes Kentarou still dreams that Iwaizumi will come back, will reappear just as suddenly as he disappeared. But, Matsukawa passes him a free bowl, “on the house,” he smiles and Kentarou doesn’t need to dream of something bigger than this.

 

“Sorry I’m late Kyoutani-san,” his own apprentice appears two hours late and full of apologies, “the storm blew some debris into my neighbour’s house, broke some of the windows. I was helping out this morning.”

 

He waves off more explanations, tells him that it’s good no one was hurt and sends Kunimi to check stock before it gets busy – always gets busy after a storm. He nods, slouching off into the back with his head bowed. Kentarou sits up a little straighter on his chair as the first customer of the morning walks into the shop.

 

“Welcome to Iwaizumi’s Mechanics Shop, how can I help you today?”

**Author's Note:**

> ahahaha I'm sorry abt this! but to be fair I think I established the fact that this au is sad as shit already lol. I purposefully kept the ending open, so whether u think oikawa and iwaizumi manage to escape or they die in the storm is up to ur own interpretation! feel free to ask for my own interpretation in the comments! or other things abt this universe that u want to know more abt/aren't clear! 
> 
> I originally planned to write something much longer in this au but I felt like these two snippets were much more effective than the 10k of waffle I've written so lol here we are! pls leave a comment and a kudo if u enjoyed!


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